A Moment of Weakness
by ResDes2
Summary: In a moment of weakness, Draco starts talking to Cormac McLaggen. Know that this is supposed to be funny. And ridiculous. And slash. And eventually  maybe , hot. GIVE ME MY REVIEWS!
1. Chapter 1

**A Moment of Weakness**

**Damn ass damn I have not written in a damn ass damn time. Oh well. I reread some of the comments some people have written for me and felt so frickin' touched by it all that I had to write again. So this is sort of a more in depth story to When Egos Clash. If you want porn/smut, go there, or just wait a chapter or two for this one. Or who knows, there might be just enough in this chapter for you. Either way, less Author Notes, let's get this crap of a show on the road!**

**Chapter 1**

His horrible self-loathing and loss of self-worth forced Draco Malfoy to find solace in the Room of Requirement. It was a place he, like so many before him, thought had never before been discovered. The sad fact that many a wizard had already stumbled upon, though, was not told to Draco because he was already having such a terrible day that day that some god, Draco is not sure which, decided to keep this secret from him, for the time being. Draco would soon find out in a matter of moments that the god had changed his ways or was always a dick, just adding more blind hope to make the pain all the more sweeter.

Either way, today was not Draco's day. Not to say that there was one significant moment that lead to his arrival in this magical room. It was more of the growing depression and angst that was tearing him apart that eventually made him to find himself in that specific hallway thinking "I need to find my happy place before my sad place eats me up." Draco, obviously, was having a moment of weakness, using phrases like "happy place" and thinking a place could eat him, when in his mind he could find no possible way of this happening. Places, or more specifically, rooms, do not eat people. Walls, maybe, or a chair, but not a place.

The causes to Draco's anger and sadness had to do with the people in his life whom he cared for and whom he felt did not care for him. He felt alone for the sole reason that he was not getting enough attention. Draco's self-obsession was getting so large that he felt if not enough people were looking at him, he felt he did not exist. This was the major and sole reason for his departure from the Slytherin common room. This reason, however, can be broken down into many smaller parts, but Draco was so enfuriated at the world that he could not even think of them at that moment. They all blurred into blindness so that his fury could not let him see what he was furious at. He merely sat there, peeved, figuring out what to do.

Should he wank off? That was his normal response to this type of situation. "England's Naughtiest Witches" lay underneath the cushion of the couch that seemed to have grown smaller since the last time he had used this room. He, of course, mistook this for his growing body's effect on perception and the obvious symbolism this switch of furniture represented. This realization would not come until later when he was confronted with a more surprising, albeit cliche, predicament.

It was at that moment, the moment when an erotic tingling boiled in his crotch over the naughtiness he thought of by jerking off in public, a feeling he felt anytime he thought of touching himself, that the door to the Room of Requirement opened to a man of similar shape, though taller and better built, though not to say Draco was not built himself, it's just that this intruder had more of a physique, especially more than the average British male, who was as lanky as a kitten.

"Fucking ginger," the intruder muttered under his breath.

"Ah, is that McLaggen, I hear?" Draco said, trying to hide his embarrassing depression.

"What of it, fucker?" Cormac responded.

"I just didn't think I'd hear that kind of talk from a snobby Griffyndor."

"Well, fuck you, too. Dick. I know you're as pissed off as I am."

"How could you tell?" Malfoy asked, surprised that he felt his not-so-good disguise was seen right through.

"Because when I walked by, I wished for a room with someone who felt as bad as I did so I could talk."

"Well, if you must ask," Draco began, always eager to talk about himself when given the opportunity, "my life does suck."

"Oh, does it, little Voldemort youth?"

"Don't you fucking say his name. He's the reason for most of my problems. That, and that twat, Harry."

"Oh, don't even say that douche's name. Who does he think he is? 'Oh, I'm the chosen one. Look at me, I'm the greatest Griffyndor/Quidditch player in the whole goddamn world. Everyone love me.'"

"What a dick. Why does everyone look up to him? He's so self-absorbed," Draco said, not realizing these words could easily be said about him.

"Agreed," Cormac replied, not realizing either the irony of his statement.

"I mean, he doesn't even have a father who yells at him all the fucking time, never noticing him or thinking he's a piece of shit," Draco said, once again not realizing the horridness of his words.

"Thank you! I always try to live up to my father! Harry doesn't know how good he has it."

"Wait," Draco stated, finding someone whom he thinks has the same predicament as he does. "You hate your father as well?"

"Oh yeah, the prick. Always asks too much of me. Thinks I need to fill his shoes. He'll be pissed I didn't get onto the team."

"The team? You didn't get it?" Draco asked.

"No, because Harry used his fucking nepotism to get the worst fucking player on the team. He's a ginger! Doesn't even have a soul!"

"So true," Draco said, not realizing that it was not true because nepotism was the wrong word to use, since Harry and Ron are not actually siblings.

"Not to mention Hermione is deeply in love with the bloke. It's mad! How could she be in love with Ron! He's hideous!"

Draco, having tried to find solace in this room, instead found solace in this boy. As he spewed words of contempt, he could relate to everything. He felt he wasn't good enough. The girl he was courting was not responding to his charms. Everything McLaggen said, Malfoy agreed wholeheartedly, even if the ideas were half-baked and thought of from an idiot.

Malfoy began to start feeling something tingling inside of him. Thinking he was straight, he had no idea what he was feeling. He was not sure whether these feelings came from his crotch or from his heart. Was it lust he was after? Or love? His heart seemed to flutter a way he had never felt before. At the same time, his dick began to stiffen, though he seemed to think this was just the random hard-on all men got on occasion. Of course, Draco was too oblivious to realize that what he was feeling was attraction towards the boy, and affection, and admiration.

Draco of course did not realize this until a moment of weakness when he reached over and kissed the boy who was sitting beside him on what he now realized was no longer a sofa but a loveseat designed for two.

**Well, that turned out angrier than I expected. I mean, I was planning on the characters to be angry, but I didn't think I would start hating them. I think I have been watching too much Arrested Development, which influenced my writing in this story. Anyway, reviews and I'll keep writing, though this is most likely going to be a pretty short piece.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I feel as if I am probably alienating myself from my audience with this story. People don't come to read fanfiction to read about me practically trashing the characters. They come for smut and Mary Sues. Whoops. **

**Chapter 2**

Draco was fighting a war with his genetics and felt like he was losing. He had a sort of mild anorexia he was too ashamed to even admit to himself he had. It was not that bad since he was too damn lazy to go fully through with it. No matter how much he exercised or dieted, he still felt fat. No matter how many calories he had burned from the long swim through the lake or the run through the forest, he still felt that he was not good enough. Though a lean body stared out at him from the mirror, all he could see was the molecule of fat that poked from his lower abdomen, which caused him much distress in the face of his romantic ways, or at least he thought it did. In fact, he was one of the best looking kids in the school, but another aspect of his genetics, the one that controlled his moods, was making him go insane, thinking that he was not good enough, not sexy enough for any person.

Of course, Draco was too lazy to care too much, and continued to eat as much as he damn well pleased. The tiring workouts made him hungrier, keeping him at the same level of fat in his body, though now surrounded with more muscle fibers. Either way, he was still fit and all the girls thought so, especially with the teased blonde hair and the for-some-reason unstable attractiveness.

So Draco's desire to be more muscular like McLaggen and lean like Potter forced him to once again find himself in the Room of Requirements. Today was a strength training day seeing as yesterday he nearly drowned while swimming in the freezing lake. Today he planned to work on his upper body, trying to reach his ideal body, which so happened to be Cormac McLaggen, the boy who's body he was consequently trying to get out of his mind.

Draco was at the lust stage in his relationship with the boy whom he did not have a relationship with, a stage that seemed to fade ungraciously with most couples. He had realized he had a somewhat crush on McLaggen when he had inadvertently kissed him on the what-used-to-be-a-sofa-and-was-now-a-loveseat loveseat. Well, Draco thought it was inadvertent. In fact, his whole body had been craving it directly under the skin without him knowing it. In fact, he has this inkling of a feeling for years now whenever he saw the lad, though he misdiagnosed it as either gas or a need to take a piss.

So while simultaneously thinking of McLaggen's meaty arms and trying to block out the sensual image of McLaggen's perfectly toned arms, Draco went to work on his first 30 push-ups. Since wizards knew little of the muggle world, they had different types of and different machines to work out with, which will not be described in detail, as the typical reader of this story is a muggle and the most basic description of it would cause a muggle's mind to explode from the sheer awesome of it. The push-up, however, was universally known between muggle, mudblood, wizard and sealion.

While using the wizarding machine that works on his biceps, Draco stared at his arms, wishing his muscle to grow bigger. The more he blasted the muscle, the sorer it got and the samer it stayed. It swelled in size, but to the original size it was yesterday. The results were not appearing fast enough, which caused Draco to work harder than he should, which caused his eventual addiction to wizarding pain medications he would develop when he turned 40.

It was at this moment that Draco would take off all his clothes, and in the fit of narcissism he was known for, as all body builders are known for, he stared at himself in the large mirror that bore around the entire room. As he worked on his pecs and shoulders, abs and glutes, he would usually get an incredibly hard erection at the thought of his naked form once again doing something he considered naughty, though most of the male population was known for doing something of the sort like this. The fact that he could not stop thinking about McLaggen's sweaty body caressing his own did not help with his major horniness. Draco used this increase dose of testosterone, adrenaline and other hormones not to have the greatest self-orgasm ever, but instead to push himself farther from the limit his body crossed ten minutes ago. Instead of touching himself, thrusting his member into his own hand, he touched the machines, thrusting his muscles to near rupture. He was determined to look like the man who made the head of his dick wet with precome.

Draco, though, oblivious to his feelings, did not recognize the correlation between McLaggen and his dick and lied to himself, telling him that the McLaggen made the muscles go stronger. Which was true, in a sense. But there was one step more to the equation. McLaggen made the dick go, which then made the muscles work.

And while he had his subconscious thoughts of touching McLaggen's dick with his own, the real McLaggen appeared, in the same image Draco conjured up for himself, shirtless and sweaty in all his glory, as if the Room had read his mind and gave into his heart's desires. Draco, immediately embarrassed by the body which he did not need to hide, quickly dropped the machinery he was working with and grabbed the shorts to hide his glory/shame.

"You've got some nice stuff that you're working with," McLaggen complimented erotically.

Not taking the hint, Draco said, "Thanks, but I think it comes with the school."

"I was talking about your dick," Cormac said, as if he had not been any more clearer in the sexy, sly half-smile he so obviously bore when he was making the first comment.

Draco blushed, which was extremely evident seeing as he was not wearing any clothes and he had some of the palest skin in a British school, as Cormac continued talking. "I'm not surprised to see you here. As I was walking towards my usual workout room, I asked for a room filled with the guy I've been thinking about all week. And he appeared in the same exact way I've been thinking of him."

"For a pervert, you seem a lot like me," Draco said, very uncomfortable with his own sexuality.

"Is that why you kissed me? Because I am so much like you, you narcissistic fuck? Ooh, that actually does sound pretty fucking good. A narcissistic fuck. Care to join me?" Cormac asked, as he dropped his shorts.

Draco stared at the swinging dick and low-hanging balls, happy to know that they looked exactly as he imagined them to be, though still not completely hard yet. Realizing he had been staring at Cormac's naked form for the past 20 seconds, he not-so-suavely tried to cover his shame up by muttering, "Fucking pervert," grabbing his clothes and leaving as fast as he could possibly go while still being able to stare at his body, so quite slow in fact, not realizing that he was as much of a "fucking pervert" as Cormac was.


End file.
